


The one where Bucky says "I love you," and Steve says "That's okay."

by chicklette



Series: Popcorn Bucket [11]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Bucky takes no shit, Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes, Captain know thyself!, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Sam Wilson is a Gift, Shrunkyclunks, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve is very bad with feelings, Tumblr ficlet, angst with HEA, my headcanons - let me show you them, steve rogers is a dumbass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-24 14:26:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15632523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chicklette/pseuds/chicklette
Summary: I have this angsty head Canon about a world-weary Cap dating a younger, earnest bucky and things going disastrously wrong when Bucky wakes up one morning and says “I love you” and Cap is like, uh, “that’s ok.” This is how it goes (angsty, rated M-ish for mature themes):





	The one where Bucky says "I love you," and Steve says "That's okay."

Steve wakes early, thinking about a run.  He’s almost made to pull off the covers and get moving when he realizes that the frantic energy he usually starts the day with isn’t there.  Instead, he feels…he feels okay.  So he turns over, pulls Bucky into his arms, closes his eyes, and goes back to sleep.  

It’s later in the morning when he wakes again.  He’s been at a light doze, flitting in and out of dreams that disappear the moment he’s conscious enough to take a look at them. He considers closing his eyes and going back to sleep, but his body is suddenly very aware that he has a handsome, lithe, twenty-four year-old kid in his bed, and well, it’s interested.

Bucky must sense he’s waking, because he snuggles deeper into Steve’s arms.  He snuffles against Steve’s neck, pressing a kiss there, before sighing, “I love you.”

Steve doesn’t move.  

It must take a moment for Bucky’s brain to catch up with his mouth, because suddenly he freezes. “Shit,” he whispers, and Steve feels the breath of it against his skin.

“That’s, uh, okay,” he says.

And fuck.  Fuck!  

He knows it’s the wrong thing to say the moment it leaves his mouth, but he can’t say the right thing, the thing the kid wants to hear, because that would be a lie, and he’s way past lying to save someone’s feelings.  That opens up bigger problems for everyone.

They lay like that for another moment, and then Bucky slides out of his arms.  “Gonna shower,” he says, and sure.  He’s probably embarrassed, or at the least, feeling sheepish.

“I’ll make coffee,” Steve says.  He pulls on a pair of boxer briefs, the kind he knows Bucky likes, and pads out to the kitchen to start the coffee.  He figures the kid’ll be in the shower a while, so he gets started on some omelets, slides a tray of bacon into the oven, and pulls out the carton of fruit salad from the deli on the corner.  

By the time Bucky’s out of the shower, the food’s ready.  They sit down to eat, but the air is heavy, stilted.

“Listen,” Steve starts, and Bucky holds up his hand.  

“Just…don’t.  I didn’t mean to say it,” he says, and Steve’s breath catches in his throat.

This kid. Christ.  He’s all pale, creamy skin and blue-gray eyes that are currently snapping fire at him.  

“I didn’t mean to say it, but I don’t regret it either.  Is that going to be a problem?”

Steve breathes deep because yeah, yeah he guesses it is.

Bucky’s watching him, eyes wide.  His mouth, God.  Steve’s done a hundred lewd things to that mouth.  Wants to do a hundred more.

Then Bucky blinks. Looks down at his plate. “Okay,” he says.  “Okay.”

He stands up and Steve watches him.  

He’s seen a lot of things since they pulled him out of the ocean, out of the ice.  He’s battled aliens and robots and those weirds sentient plants that sprayed out the purple mist that made everyone want to fight for the longest six days of Steve’s life.  He watched the love of his life wither and die, enduring the heartbreak each time she forgot him, and each time she remembered.

He’s watched his friends start to settle down.  Clint and Nat – saw that one coming a mile away.  Tony and Pepper never married, but Pepper’s having his baby, due in October, and Tony’s a damned mess.  Sam’s got a girl he’s seeing regular.  Doesn’t bring her around the tower, but Steve’s out a weekend running partner, and Sam’s smiling a whole lot easier these days.

He’s seen a lot of things in his time out of the ice.  Learned a lot about technology, learned a lot about himself, about humanity.  Maybe some things he wishes he hadn’t.  But watching Bucky walk to the bedroom, shoulders high and tight, that’s something he didn’t see coming.  He hurts for the kid, he does.

But he’s not going to lie. Not going to say something he doesn’t feel.  

Fact is, Steve thinks he’s probably past all that.  

Watching Peg die, SHIELD fall, watching a bunch of suits try to seize power and turn the Avengers into their lapdogs?   None of that was good.  Steve’s come to terms with it all, best he can, but he can’t find it in him to wish for some kind of happily ever after.

Meeting Bucky, well, that seemed like just enough good luck.  And maybe a little bit like something Steve deserved, after all these years.   They were at the SI Holiday party, the one for all the folks working on Avenger’s tech, the one with all of Tony’s pets.  He’d been talking to Dr. Cho and looked over when he felt someone watching him.

Bucky was eyeing him up, looking tall and handsome in a tux, his hair gelled up into that stylish disorder that Tony seems to appreciate.  He saw Steve catch him staring, bit his lip, then smirked over the top of his glass of champagne.

Getting him into bed took no time at all, and Steve was thrilled with how enthusiastic, how eager Bucky was.  

He’d dated some age-appropriate people, and he’d spent a lot of time with his own dick in his hand, so having someone who didn’t just tolerate Steve’s ramped up drive, but actually appreciated it?  Well, suddenly the weekends had a whole lot to look forward to.

He was a smart kid, too. Kind and funny, crazy about his family and dedicated to his work.  The first time he told Steve he’d have to reschedule because he was working late, Steve breathed a sigh of relief.

It was good to have someone who understood about work.  About responsibilities.

He just hadn’t thought the kid was going to go and catch feelings.

Steve’s not surprised when Bucky emerges from the bedroom with his overnight bag.  He walks over to the living room and retrieves his laptop, stowing it in the padded sleeve and zipping it into his overnight bag.

He stops at the kitchen table, where Steve is still sitting like a fucking punk, and sets down his bag. He strokes a hand across Steve’s face before tipping it up.  He’s looking down at Steve and Steve wants to wrap his arms around this kid, hold him tight and kiss his face, anything to get that look off of it –that brave little soldier look.  Steve’s seen enough of that look to last a lifetime.

“I knew what I was getting into,” Bucky says.  “And I don’t regret it.”

He leans down and kisses the corner of Steve’s mouth, once, twice, then stands again.  “Take care of yourself, Stevie,” he says, and Christ, Steve can hear the hurt in his voice.

“Hey,” he says. “Hey.”  He reaches out and wraps an arm around Bucky’s waist, pulling him in tight, pressing his face into Bucky’s belly.  He’d expected Bucky to be soft everywhere, but was surprised – and delighted – to find that Bucky had abs and well-defined muscles underneath all that lithe grace.

“Okay,” Steve says, finally. “Okay.”  He presses a kiss to Bucky’s stomach.  “Go…fix the world,” he says, and Bucky gives him a tight-lipped smile as he pulls away.

A moment later he hears the door close and figures that’s that.

It was a good run.

.

“I don’t know what to tell you Steve,” Dr. Cho says, putting aside her stethoscope.  “You’re in perfect health – just like always.”

“Okay, yeah,” he says. “Thanks.”

“Is there anything more you can tell me about your symptoms?”

Steve thinks back to the last couple of weeks.  “No,” he says.  “I feel lethargic, and kind of…achy?  Like maybe I’m coming down with a cold.”

“I’d like to do some additional tests.  It could be any number of things.”

It could be the serum finally breaking down is what she doesn’t say, but they both hear it anyway.

“Yeah,” Steve says. “Sure.”

But three days later, the tests all come back, and nothing’s changed.  Steve is still the picture of health, the serum working overtime to ensure that he remains that way.

“Have there been any significant changes?” Cho asks.

Steve thinks back, but there’s nothing remarkable.  “I was seeing someone, but we called it quits.”

“Was it serious?”

“Not – not for me,” he admits.  He still hates that Bucky got hurt, but he supposes it was inevitable.  Lesson learned.

“Hmm,” she says, and Steve looks up.  “It’s just…a lot of these symptoms – it could be depression.”

“Nah,” Steve says. “Saw a head shrinker back when they first pulled me out.  I’m all good.”

Cho purses her lips. “I’d still like to have a look at your serotonin levels, if that’s okay.”

“Yeah,” Steve says, rolling up his sleeve.  “Sure.”

.

“What the hell do I have to be depressed about?” Steve gripes.  

Sam shrugs, then dodges the next blow coming his way.  He’s not enhanced like the rest of the Avengers (you will never, ever convince him that Clint doesn’t have a bionic eye – no one is that good), so he has to be extra alert when he’s sparring with them.  Especially with Steve, who has been a real bear lately.

“Gee,” Sam says, grunting as he lunges forward.  “I can’t imagine.”

“Hey, I’m serious,” Steve says.

“You know, Rogers, for someone so smart, you sure are dumb.”

“What does that mean?” Steve asks.  “Nat said the same damned thing.”

“Lord,” Sam says, rolling his eyes.

Steve swings around, bringing in a left while coming up from below with his right.  Sam blocks one and dodges the other, then steps back and holds up his hands.

“Means it’s been so damned long since you’ve been happy, you didn’t recognize it when you had it.  And now it’s gone and you’re feeling it.”

Steve stands back, staring, and then starts unlacing his gloves.

Sam is prepared to spell things out further if he has to, but he hopes he won’t have to.  It’ll be better if Steve gets it on his own.  From the gleam in his eye, Sam thinks he’s just about there. He hopes so anyway.  Happiness looks good on Steve Rogers, even if he doesn’t know it.

.

“Hey,” Bucky says, as he opens the door.  “Oh.”  

He takes Steve in and Steve sees the bright light in Bucky’s eyes, a genuine smile on his lips, and Steve’s chest aches to see it.  Then Bucky tamps it down and all that light, brightness, leaves his face.

“Hey,” Steve says. “Sorry to just.…” He shrugs.  

“Thought you were the pizza,” Bucky says. The looks he’s giving Steve – irritated and sullen. Damn.  He looks every bit the kid that Steve had him pegged for.

After a beat, Bucky’s eyes widen and the irritated look gives way to confusion.  “Did you want something?”

“Yeah, I think, uhm. I missed you,” Steve says and Bucky looks good and unimpressed.

“Well,” Bucky says, and that derisive tone is not a good look on him.  “You think you missed me?  So what, you come over here, expecting…” and there he shrugs.  

“Buck,” Steve says, and reaches out to touch, but Bucky moves away.

“No way,” he says, shaking his head.  “You know, I was fine with how things were?  I mean, you’re – you’re _Captain America,_ but you’re also Steve.  You’re him, too.  And I was okay just having a little bit of Steve.  I was okay with not having it all the way.  I didn’t ask you to love me _back_ , Steve.”

“I know, Buck, I –“

“No,” Bucky says, and he’s really getting some steam going now.  Steve can see it in the way his cheeks get those two bright splotches, high up on his cheekbones, the way they get when he –

“You don’t get to show up here because you’re lonely,” Bucky says.  “I deserve better than that.  I deserve better than someone who keeps calling me kid, throwing my age up in my face all the time like _I don’t know._  I know, Steve.  Jesus.”

He’s – Christ, he’s gorgeous.  Just…glorious in his anger, all pink faced and red lips, eyes blazing like nothing Steve has ever seen before and he – he wants it.  He wants Bucky coming at him, telling him he’s wrong and putting him in his place.    He likes the soft Sunday mornings, the nuzzling, snuffling, coming awake slow, bodies getting what they want, soft and easy. But he wants this, too.

It his him then, hard and visceral, in his gut the way it hasn’t until right now: He’s in love with this kid.  He’s in love with – with – with Bucky.  He’s in _love_ with him.

Steve feels winded all of a sudden, and vulnerable like he hasn’t in years.  He’s looking at Bucky, but what he’s seeing is his heart, beating there outside of his chest, where anything, anyone, can come along and harm it.

It’s – He takes a deep, steadying breath, and then another.  He wants to reach out, grab Bucky and hold him tight, shield him with his body so that nothing can ever hurt him.  Hurt them.

Bucky sees something’s wrong.  The fire dies down a touch and instead his brows knit with confusion.  “Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah, I –“  His mind races, catching up, cataloging all of this new information, finally realizing what his body’s been trying to tell him for weeks. He feels winded because he finally sees this all from Bucky’s point of view: how they never go out, how Steve never invites him to meet any of the team, any of his _friends._ How he’ll answer any question Bucky asks, but he still keeps his guard up.

God, he’s a shit.

“Bucky,” he says, and he straightens up and looks Bucky right in the eyes.  “I’m,” he shakes his head.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t know, and I handled everything so badly.  I’m –“ _in love with you._ He means to say it, but he – not now.  This isn’t the time or place.  Not like this.

Bucky’s standing back, looking skeptical, but listening.

“You’re right about everything,” Steve says with a shrug.  “You deserve so much better than this.  And I hope, I mean, if-“

“Delivery for Barnes?”

Steve turns, startled. There’s a pizza guy behind him holding one of those padded bags and how the hell did he miss that guy slogging up the three flights to Bucky’s apartment?

“Thanks,” Bucky says, and Steve steps aside to let the transaction occur.  

As Bucky’s signing his name, a strand of his hair escapes its gelled confinement and falls across his forehead.  His tongue is sticking out and he’s holding the receipt to the wall and shaking out the pen, trying to get the ink to run.

“I love you,” Steve says.

Bucky startles, stops, and looks at him, eyes wide.

They stare at each other in shocked silence for a moment, until the pizza guy clears his throat.  

“I love you,” Steve says again, because now that he’s said it he doesn’t know how to stop.  He’s said those words to three people in his life: His Ma, Peggy, and now Bucky.  “I hope that’s good news,” he says, “but I’ll go if you want me too.  I love you and you should – you should know that.  If it makes a difference.”

Bucky doesn’t say anything, and the pizza guy clears his throat again.

Without taking his eyes from Bucky, Steve reaches for his wallet and pulls out a couple of bills. “That cover it?” he asks.  It must, because the guy hands Steve the pizza and leaves.

Bucky’s still staring at him, and Steve’s starting to worry.  Did he leave it too long?  

Turning, Bucky walks into his apartment and Steve follows, closing the door behind him.  He looks around.  It’s small but neatly furnished.  Steve knows Tony pays well, but Bucky is still new to his career.  It strikes him then that while he’s been here to pick Bucky up, he’s never actually spent any time here, and feels like an asshole all over again.

“Shit,” he says.  “You probably thought I didn’t want to meet your friends.”

“You didn’t,” Bucky says, and he’s right.  Steve wasn’t thinking of Bucky in any way other than how they could spend time together, alone, and preferably naked.  All those other things, cooking together and listening to music, Bucky working at the dining room table while Steve sketched.  All that was just extra.  An afterthought.  He hadn’t even realized it was the best part. Or he had, but he’d hidden that away from himself, afraid of what it might mean to be let himself feel that way about someone again.

“I do now,” Steve says. “I want –“ so many things. Things, he’s coming to realize, he might not get.

“Why?” Bucky says.  “Why now?  Did you finally get lonely enough?  Because Steve, there are plenty of people who would fuck you, no strings attached.  No feelings.”

“I don’t want that,” Steve says.  It’s kicking up his temper, Bucky mouthing off to him like that.  He knows he has a right, hell, he knows that it’s his due. But he’s had other people following his orders for so long, it riles him when they don’t.  It riles him to be questioned.

He reaches out for Bucky, and this time, Bucky doesn’t bat him away.  He settles a hand on Bucky’s waist, then another, and pulls him close. His heart is beating hard.

What he wants is to devour this kid – this man – in front of him.  What he wants is to open his mouth and swallow him whole.  

Instead, he tips his head down, and brushes the softest, lightest kiss he can manage against Bucky’s warm lips.  

It takes him a moment to realize his hands are trembling.

“I love you,” he says, soft, a whisper, so that Bucky can feel it against his lips.  

For a moment, he’s afraid that Bucky will push him away.

“That’s okay,” Bucky says, and reaches his arms up around Steve’s neck.  “That’s…going to be just fine.”

By the time they surface from their next kiss, the pizza’s gone cold.

“Come on,” Steve says, taking in Bucky’s disappointed pout.  “I know this amazing place in Brooklyn.  We’ll eat it there.  I brought the bike.”

Bucky looks at him for a long moment before a genuine smile lights his face.  He looks so fresh, so young.  It’s dazzling.  

Steve’s been an absolute fool.

“Yeah,” he says, and goes to the closet for the leather jacket that Steve bought him the first time he’d picked him up on the bike.  

When he turns around, Steve takes a moment to zip it up, tightening the band at the collar and checking that the turtle shell armor is still in place.  When he’s satisfied, he looks up and Bucky’s giving him the most indulgent grin.  

“Shut up,” Steve says, leaning down to brush another kiss at Bucky’s mouth.  “I take care of what’s mine.”

“Does that mean I’m yours?”

“It means that one day I hope to have earned it.”

The grin that Bucky gives him is feral and hot.

“Why don’t you start working on that now?” he says, and Steve grins.  

“Because you’re hungry.”

“Baby I’m starving.  I feel like I haven’t eaten in weeks.”

Steve grins, unable to take his eyes off of the incredible man in his arms.  Now that he’s letting himself see it, he wonders how he ever saw anything else.

“Thank you,” he says, wrapping his arms around Bucky and holding him tight.  “Thank you.”

“Yeah?” Bucky says.  “Well don’t let it happen again.”

“Never,” Steve answers. “Never.”  

**Author's Note:**

> I'm Chicklette on tumblr. Come say hey.


End file.
